


No Reason

by thebittermountain



Category: Guild Hunter - Nalini Singh
Genre: Anger, Canon Compliant, Dysfunctional Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Missing Scene, Suicide Attempt, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24566671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebittermountain/pseuds/thebittermountain
Summary: Why did Jeffrey throw something when Elena left? Was it anger at her? Was it anger at himself? How much do we really know about how Jeffrey thinks?
Relationships: Elena Deveraux & Jeffrey Deveraux, Elena Deveraux/Raphael (Guild Hunter), Jeffrey Deveraux/Gwendolyn Deveraux, Jeffrey Deveraux/Marguerite Deveraux (past)
Kudos: 30





	No Reason

**Author's Note:**

> I find Jeffrey Deveraux fascinating as a character, and honestly, sympathize with him in some respect. Obviously, he was a crappy father after Marguerite died and Elena made her decision. But he is also a deeply traumatized man, who clearly has not dealt with his trauma, from the way he treats his two Hunter daughters and his second wife. 
> 
> This is *not* a happy fic, so I wouldn't recommend reading this if you're not in a good mental state, despite the hopeful ending.

Jeffrey Deveraux stared at the closed door for only a moment before turning with a fluid motion that would have surprised the daughter who had just disappeared through it, and throwing his priceless crystal shot glass at the brick-lined fireplace with a muttered curse.

Breathing hard, he turned to hunch over his desk, his hands clutching the far edge of the polished ironwood so tightly his knuckles turned the color of bone. Absently, he heard voices, and running steps in the hall—he must have alarmed his assistant—before the even fainter snick of the door as Elieanora—Elena—left his life once again.

Jeffrey drew in a shaky breath, straightening to his—rather considerable—full height. Looking out at the sky through his windows, he crossed his arms, sighing.

“Marguerite, my darling, what would you have me do?” The question was rough, his voice as far from the polished derision he had just given his daughter as it could possibly be when coming from the same man. He blinked quickly, knowing what his long-dead first wife would have said.

 _Cherie, our Ellie is not to blame. Do you blame her for her anger and defiance? You abandoned her when she needed you_.

He swore, ripping his glasses from his face.

“So did you, Marguerite. So. Did. You. Only two of our babies died. And you didn’t just abandon Beth and Ellie. You abandoned _me_.” His voice broke on the last word, and he released his glasses from his clenched fist, the spectacles landing with a clatter on the desk he still stood before.

It had been more than a decade since his soulmate had hung herself—though he would admit, her soul had left as soon as Ari and Belle died—and his grief and anger hadn’t lessened, even by an inch.

“You left me,” he whispered brokenly. “You broke me, darling.” And he had already been half broken. How does a child heal from watching his mother being brutally murdered before his eyes? Not without a mark.

He had _tried_ to be there for Elena, he _had_. And he still adored her, his third baby, the one who looked at both him and Marguerite with stars in her eyes, the one who wanted to do everything with her big sisters, but adored playing with her baby sister. But she couldn’t possibly expect him to be able to watch her die. To see her torn apart and bloody like his mother. Like Ariel. Like Mirabelle. Or _worse_ , to watch her face her own tragedy, to become her mother.

God, he knew what she thought. That he blamed her for Patalis. How could he? He was a hypocrite, but not _that_ much of one. If Patalis had been drawn to them, it was as much Jeffrey’s fault as it was his daughter’s.

Before his mother had died—had been murdered—she had been talking about sending Jeffrey to the Hunter boarding school. _He_ had been the first one to smell the vamps that came after her.

He dug his hands into his hair with a strangled yell, looking for something else to throw. Unfortunately, the shot glass had been the only thing shatterable in his office.

His hands tightened painfully, pulling his hair.

This hunt was going to kill her, he _knew_ it. Jeffrey was no idiot. He kept his finger on the pulse of the city’s news, and more subtly, on that of the Guild’s network. He knew about the disappearances.

And dear God, he’d seen the way Raphael’s second looked at her. Dmitri either wanted to kill her or fuck her, maybe both. And the way Raphael looked at her…God, _that_ scared him more than anything.

There was nothing good that could come out of a hunt that involved two—perhaps three—archangels. There was little reassuring about the Archangel of New York having his eye on his daughter. There was _even_ _less_ about the top vampire in New York being interested by her either.

And Elena had been contracted directly by Raphael.

Jeffrey turned around in a helpless, frustrated circle, before sinking down in front of his desk. His head fell back, hitting the wooden desk with an echoed thump.

_He couldn’t do this._

“Mr. Deveraux? Is something wrong?” He looked at the closed door, getting a hint of the faint scent of vampire his assistant always carried with her. It was probably about time to chase her out, now that he had a good idea of who she was working for. He cleared his throat softly, before pitching his voice.

“No, everything is fine, Geraldine. In fact, why don’t you take your lunch break?” He heard the squeak of her pumps against the floor as she clearly hesitated.

“…Alright. Thank you, Mr. Deveraux. I’ll have my cell on me.” Then she finally walked away, the clicking of her heels growing ever fainter.

He dropped his head into his hands, eyes hot and stinging. No doubt, his words had—or would—drive Elena right into Raphael’s arms. And not in any considered way that would give her a bargaining chip. No, she would do it simply to spite Jeffrey. For which he couldn’t honestly blame her. He hadn’t been the father she needed since she’d declared her decision to become a Hunter. He didn’t think he could _ever_ be that father again. His heart couldn’t take it.

Completely alone in his high-class New York office, Jeffrey Deveraux’s shoulders shook as he cried. Cried in a way that scraped his throat and reddened his eyes. Cried wholeheartedly in a way that no one would believe he could do, except perhaps Cecelia Deveraux and his first wife.

* * *

Jeffrey watched the broadcast with unblinking eyes as the Archangel of New York fell with his daughter in his arms. Her face wasn’t visible, but that white hair—so like Marguerite—could belong to no one else. If he could give her nothing else, he would watch his daughter die. He would not look away. Even if by some miracle she was still alive, that Raphael was still alive, she _would_ die. Because there was no way in heaven or hell his Ellie would let _anyone_ make her into a vampire.

He stiffened, barely holding back a gasp as the bodies of the archangel and his daughter were surrounded by the wings of Raphael’s men. So surrounded that he could no longer see either of them.

But Jeffrey kept watching, not looking away until the cloud of wings disappeared into the sky.

* * *

“Stop.” He glared at his wife as she slammed a tray of food down on his bedside table.

“Why?” She crossed her arms, glaring back.

“I know you don’t love me. I know you never will. But even if Elena was your favorite, I know you love your daughters.” He stared at her in shock, speechless—which was perhaps lucky, because she continued with barely a pause. “Your death would devastate them.” She blew out a breath, her shoulders shaking.

“Do you truly—and I mean truly—think that Elizabeth could cope with the death of both her last big sister and her father?” Jeffrey gaped at her before finally recovering his powers of speech.

“Why do _you_ care? She isn’t yours, and she was half-grown before I married you.” Gwendolyn shook her head, giving him a disgusted look.

“Unlike you, _Jeffrey_ , I don’t tear out my heart and lock it in a box piece by piece when I’m hurt. Unlike you, my affection _isn’t_ conditional.” He sputtered in offended disbelief, but she rolled right over him.

“Elizabeth is a sweetheart. Spoiled and pampered, perhaps, but innately one of the sweetest people I’ve met. She is very easy to love. And I _know_ you are aware of how much she adored Elena. Despite the influence of her brat of a husband. Elena was her rock, even when they weren’t getting along.” She pinned him with a piercing look.

“So, Jeffrey. What do you think will happen if, after losing her rock, _you_ die?” He winced, the motion reverberating painfully throughout his entire body.

“Fine. You win, Gwendolyn. Now get the _fuck_ out of my room.” She looked at his tray, not moving until he laboriously shifted onto his lap, and took a bite. Then she nodded, and left, closing his door with an emphatic thud.

He watched her go with a furious, reluctant respect. She’d never showed him that kind of spine before.

* * *

He was watching when Elena finally flew back into the city. Not anywhere she would be able to see him, of course. But he saw her. And something in Jeffrey Deveraux’s broken, twisted heart relaxed the slightest bit when he saw her flying around the skyscrapers of New York City with a wide, delighted smile on her face.

Two days later, an anonymous donation was made to the Guild Hunter Association, and an unmarked gift was cleared by the Tower. Inside were three things: the quilt that had once been on Jeffrey and Marguerite’s bed, Marguerite’s wedding ring, and a photograph of a smiling woman, one Elena didn’t know.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in one go, over the span of about four hours. The scene in Angel's Blood that precipitated this idea has always been one I find fascinating, because it reveals something about both Elena and Jeffrey's characters, as well as their relationship and history. 
> 
> The scene is in Chapter 28, if you want to re-familiarize yourself with the context.


End file.
